As Common As Matches
by CJJenkins
Summary: It wasn't enough that they had spent most of their lives fighting some piece of themselves. Surviving wasn't living, they all knew that. This Chapter: "New York sucked him dry; he ran on coffee and fumes throughout the week and expensive alcohol and pretty girls on the weekend." AU.
1. Ill-Mind

When the cops found him, he was already so malnourished that they weren't sure he would live. He doesn't remember any of it, but they said that it was pretty busted his parents for possession and distribution. It was later found out that they also led a gang that had been at fault for many recent killings.

They named him Black Star, a token to prove how devoted they were to the Star Clan. He was a symbol that they would do anything, they would've killed him for the clan. Once he had no use for them, it was done. He had several broken bones, scratches on his hands and feet and hadn't been properly fed in over two months when they found him.

The clan boy had been in and out of foster care and, by the time he was 11, had multiple arrests. Adoptive parents tried to handle him, fought a valiant effort, but he had that damn clan pumping through his veins and tore up whatever resembled order.

However, when he was 12, he was adopted by one of the officers that had found him all of those years ago. Back then Sid Barett had been a young thing, thrown into the chaos of Brooklyn on his first year on the police force. He had been the man who rushed the child to the hospital, made sure he was living before he filled out the necessary paperwork for Black Star, even took the liberty to put an appropriate nickname for the boy.

"Blake." The tall, wide framed man had said the moment he saw the shock of blue hair.

Just one look was all it took for him to know, this kid would be trouble. So, during their years together, Sid had tamed the mighty child well enough. Maybe some days he would stay out late, get in fights with people who challenged him, but it wasn't for the seek of power. That was good enough for Sid.

Blake was raised to believe in what made his heart feel less lonely. His adoptive parents taught him that: 'put faith in something that makes you feel important'. They went to church on an almost-regular schedule, skipping some weekends due to tiredness or plans made ahead of time. It seemed that religion had snuffed out the evil flame that was left lit after his biological parents left him to felt like he could handle anything Blake had to throw at him for many years.

It wasn't until Blake started asking why they had adopted him and what his real family was like that Sid didn't know what to do. He handed the responsibility to Mira Nygus, his devoted partner.

"Sid and I couldn't have kids." She told him flat out, "He always would talk about you, saying he should have taken you away from all of that, not left you in homes to fend for yourself."

To that, Blake would rebuttal with 'I have no issue fending for myself, I don't need protection.'

"Your parents used to beat you when you cried as a baby, they wouldn't feed you unless they had nothing better to do." Nygus had told him when he was ready, which had been at the end of his sophomore year.

The words had rung in his head for damn-near two years, making his distraught mind ill. He would sit there, in the pews next to Sid and Mira and think about how what the preacher said sounded awfully like bullshit. "God will be sure to keep you in his sights and have no harm fall upon you if you do not stray."

After that, Blake had changed a lot. He started going to parties more often and drinking. He felt sick all the thought of what the old man decked out in gold trimmed robes said a lot of the time, and why God had not kept him in his sights when he was a child. He hadn't done anything wrong but the worst happened to him all the same. He felt blindsided by everything.

This is about the time he stops going to church with Sid and Mira, going into a reckless-drunken downward spiral.

He got in a fight with Sid and Nygus one night, and many nights after that. Because _how the hell does he believe in something a human wrote_ and _if god doesn't give him a sign, he can do this anymore._

All they said, stern but sweet, was "Blake, believe what you want."

Blake turned himself inside out to find his God, to get him to show himself just once. He begged, and wrote it down. "This is me, reaching out to you. If hell is truly your pit of fire and I get thrown in it, I'm going to regret ever writing this shit." Some days it truly was the peak of something immensely powerful.

One particular night in mid summer right before he would leave for college, he got too drunk. He walked home by himself and started to think maybe, since God would not talk to him, he would surpass the man. Because that's all he was, a man. And as he walked, the rain dotted the sidewalk and brought moisture to the hot night.

Blake couldn't stop his mind from going, going, going because honestly, who is this _man_ who gets to choose if someone goes to heaven or hell? And what is heaven? Is it real and is it like he imagined? And is wrong to not believe in right and wrong? Who decided? And if it's "god" why hasn't he chatted him up like Adam and Eve? Where's the fucking snake offering apples? What hasn't it happened to him? What if Jesus was fake? Who's "God" then? The Government? Him?

"I'm fucking done." He slurred, hair stuck his forehead and cheeks flushed.

"I'm so fucking done." He near screams. And then actually screams multiple times after. He found God, he lost hope and he knew what he had to do now.

That was the first time Blake found something that wouldn't make him lonely, that would make him do his best.


	2. Cul-De-Sacs (Dead Ends)

He keeps calling his older brother, it's probably passed 20 calls by now. He's the only one that takes care of Wes. The only one that cares. Because their Mom and Dad are out getting drunk with their rich Yacht friends and signing big music deals. Soul and Wes bonded in the cold of night when their parents weren't there, on birthday's where they had to ask one of the cooks to make a cake for the other one because their parents had forgotten, when either would have a nightmare and the other would come to the rescue and hum calming tunes until calm came.

In their adolescence, the boy would fight nonstop, and more frequently than not, Wes would blame Soul for their parent's absence in both of their lives. The nanny's did their jobs and the boys would only be caught together in the dead of night when the played video games and thought no one could see them.

When they were finishing middle school, they'd go out and steal from gas stations even though their allowance was 50 dollars every week. It was nothing they needed, a pack of gum or a lighter. It soon grew into something much more devious. They'd cause so much trouble in the town over, rode their bikes for 10 minutes to go to the skate park and hang out with the wrong crowd, steal whole picnic sets worth of food and booze.

Soul guesses that's how Wes got started, when they were teens walking to their dumb "friends" house to get high or drunk again. They're a year apart and were actually getting along in public for the first time in 10 years. Soul keeps going even though he has a bad feeling about it. They go to the wrong places with sketchy people and get drunk and smoke too much.

Getting high wasn't too bad, but definitely not something Soul would want to do recreationally. His mind gets fuzzy and he feels like he wants to kiss the girl in front of him, but she's not pretty to him and kind of mean. People laugh at him when he's stoned and it makes me even more insecure than normal. His brother is as charismatic as ever though, everyone flocks to him at parties and Soul dissolves and watches everyone from afar. Wes was always gut laughing back then, saying he wanted to go make snow angels in the middle of summer.

Now, when Soul is nineteen and Wes is damn near twenty one, Soul is stuck going from their friends old houses asking everyone and anyone "Have you seen my brother?" Because he's been gone all night and has been getting into some bad drugs. Soul keeps thinking of finding him in a ditch and dead. Regret drowns him because _he should have stopped him sooner_.

Terror prickles the hair on the back of his neck and Soul ends up calling the police to put in a missing persons, but get's declined because it hasn't been 24 hours yet. Soul rides around town on his harley for 3 hours and drops by everywhere they used to go when they were freshmen and sophomores in high school.

Wes turns up, alive. He's at Soul's Girlfriends place. Naked, with her. Soul remains calm because he kind of expected she was cheating, he felt that she never loved him. This is proved by the way she just stands with the sheet wrapped around her in the doorway, unphased by the fact that Soul just saw her with someone else. Soul leaves with a hard blow to his ego and his brother wrapped around his shoulder. It's cold out now, so Wes could make a snow angel if he wasn't high on coke.

Wes looks like hell, his eyes are sunken in and he's a lot more skinny than he should be. His hair is all knotted in places, his hair looks more like it was bleached than the natural, smooth white-blonde he's supposed to have. He sways with the winter wind, knees buckling and unbuckling as he tried to walk in a straight line with the help of his younger brother.

"Wes, can you hold a convo?"

He moans but it's an audible 'sure'

"I'm gonna leave. Like move towns."

Wes stiffens and tries to walk by himself but to no avail "Why?"

"I don't want to be here, I don't want to take care of you or feel like shit when you're gone for days on end out getting high somewhere. You know?"

"Uh. But what about me? What about us?"

"You mean your shitty fucking pill bottle vision quests? Not for me. You can visit when you're clean, though." Soul near smiles but stops it because this is too sad.

"I understand."

Soul hadn't expect Wes to be level headed about this.

"Wes, I want my kids to be able to call you Uncle. So get sober before they're born or you won't be a part of their lives, okay?" Soul bristles at the thought of Wes not living to then, "I love you, Bro. Don't do this to yourself, please."

The walk for a couple minutes in silence before Soul realizes Wes is crying and his shaking isn't due to the cold weather outside.

"I'm sorry, Soul." He whimpers out, Souls thinks he's coming off his high.

"It's okay, man." Soul tells the white lie to keep Wes from falling apart in his arms before they get home.

"It's not!" Suddenly Soul isn't carrying Wes anymore, "I slept with your girlfriend! I'm such a shitty fucking brother! I-I left you alone in our giant house for too long! I don't want you to hurt like me, Soul!" He looks like a leaf blowing around in the wind and then falls straight on his ass in a snow pile. The guy's only in his boxers and a girls zip up hoodie, he looks like a fool.

Soul crouches down, they're eye to eye, "Are you going to quit?"

"Yes." Wes buries his face in his hands and sobs, "Oh god yes."

After they manage to finish the trek home, Soul gets Wes in real clothes and starts an actual warm meal for the two of them..

"I'm still gonna leave. I don't want to be here anymore. I have college and stuff." Soul sighs.

Wes says something Inaudible and lays his face in the table to look at Soul.

"Say that again?"

"Take me with you."

That night they packed their bags and moved to a city that had one of their families vacation houses.

The road trip was nice.


	3. No Faith in Brooklyn

Lately, it seemed like the streets of Brooklyn never wanted her to feel at home or sleep properly, especially the ones right outside the apartment. It was always either a bar fight, bad traffic or a drug deal gone wrong and, honestly, it wouldn't really matter if she didn't have to look out for her younger sister. But Patty had to grow up without even knowing what was going on, didn't know that they had been on the street for way too long and may have not left the streets too many times. Patty had to deal with stuff kids her age shouldn't have had to deal with, Patty, god bless Patty, who had cheered her older sister up too many times to count.

The sisters had out-of-whack and, more importantly, out-of-sync work schedules. This was the main culprit of the lack-luster nights together after work in front of their tiny tube-TV watching Law & Order dozing off. The older of the two was starting to get antsy, uncomfortable in her own skin and began to look up cheap-as-dirt apartment in places she'd never think about going to. She fell short of something inexpensive enough for months, that is until she started looking at bartending jobs in Vegas and found a small town a 30 minute drive away that had apartment complex's that might as well been painted with the words "salvation".

She breaks the news to Patty over Eggo's and OJ.

"Hey, sis. I gotta talk to you." She leans on her elbows and watches her younger sister wolf down a stack of still-soggy toaster waffles.

"What's up?" Patty muffles something awful through the food, but is understood perfectly.

"I was thinkin' bout getting out of this say?"

Patty nearly spits out her food, but decides not to waste it and hurries to gulp it down, almost choking.

"What are you talking about, Liz? This is where we grew up!" She tears up a little.

That's Liz's weak spot and she almost can't reply to her sister.

"It' not good for us here, I have a spot all picked out and we can afford it and it may be better than here." She swallows thickly, "I just need the go ahead, sis."

"Is this what you really want to do?' Patty becomes serious very fast and throws Liz for loop.

"I think it's better for us, I think it won't be so toxic, I think we may be able to breathe for once."

"That's not what I asked.." Patty looks at her sister with pity, but not quite. There's something else.

"Yes, this is."

It takes a while to arrange, but they trade their beat up toyota in for a van with less than a thousand miles on it. It has some stains in the back and it cost them a little extra to pay the difference, but worth it. One of the nights before she heads out, Liz talks to the guy she's been watching for months now. He's young, maybe a little older than her. He looks tired and sad almost always.

"The usual today?" She pulls out a scotch glass and crown royal, he smiles and nods.

"You know, I don't even know your name." He manages after several drinks in his system. If she wasn't leaving, she would try to get with him. Because, god damn, he could hold his liquor.

"If you know my name, you'll fall for me." She says and mixes a margarita.

"You sound so sure of yourself." He chuckles.

"It's happened before." She smirks, "By the way, where is your model of the night?"

He seems a little irritated by the comment, but responds regardless.

"Didn't want the company tonight."

Before they know what's happening, the two begin sharing stories of their life and find out that they are almost exact opposites save for a couple details and the favor of the color purple. He talks about his dad and the constant pressure of crawling out of his shadow and she discusses her lack of parents and issues crawling off the street at eleven. She tells him about Patty and he tells her about work. They find some mutual ground in between hating this city and how great the west looks right about now. He picks up and leaves, leaving a bountiful tips like he usually does.

On her last night, she tells the man that he reminds her of a dead sea. It goes real south, real fast in regards to how pissed he gets after she explain herself. She feels snuffed out like a small candle at the end of the night, like she shrunk in significance in some way. She says goodbye to her coworkers at the bar, hugging them while trying to shuck her leather jacket on. She skips out after she left the other girls crying and the boys wishing they could mix drinks like her. She hurries home to Patty to finish packing.

The lock gives her grief, but she's inside with a jiggle of the handle. Thank god they're leaving this place. The open door revealed a very solemn, packing Patty. She turns and half-smiles at her older sister.

"Hey, how about we put this on hold?" Liz takes her purse off and grabs the box Patty has to set it on the pile in the corner of the shabby front room, "Let's go get lunch."

Sure enough they do, but it's at the corner twenty-four hour diner just around the block - because it's cheap and they're supposed to be saving for the trip and move-in. They munch until they're faced to go back and finish what they started out to do, Patty continues to not talk about the sadness swelling in her.

They pack up what they can't fit into the bags and backpacks they have lying around the apartment. They have some small boxes that hold memorabilia from high school and kitchen utensils.

Patty curls up in a ball two hours before they have to leave, so Liz lets her sneak in a nap while she finishes vacuuming and cleaning. Her sister settles into slight snore and the blanket. She looks peaceful enough that Liz feels terrible when she wakes her up later. Her bones feel heavy, but she's excited for the new adventure.

"Hey, Patty?" Liz gingerly shakes her. Patty nearly growls when she asks why the hell Liz is waking her up.

"We're goin'." She sadly smirks down at her sister.

Patty starts bawling, blubbering about how this is _home_ , this shitty town is home and she knows they have to leave but she asks Liz, _begs_ Liz, to come back one day with her and they can see how far they've come. She agrees and then they're off.

By the time they got out of the hell that was New York, the afternoon sun was almost upon them. Summer was just around the corner and their tiny state had a dry spring, meaning it was all hot and no humidity, leaving Patty in barely any clothes and Liz in some old denim shorts and a tee shirt she had gotten from her time as a used-car salesman in the grimy part of the Bronx. They both looked like hell, but New York was behind them and they were on their way to the new start they'd always wanted.

* * *

 **Hey! Sorry this took a while, I graduated last week! Hope this one's decent., let me know if there are errors! R &R greatly appreciated!**

 _ **CJ**_


	4. Bruised

**This is a little short, sorry about that! I also don't know if I'm going to continue this story, but I had this one and the makings of two others already typed up. I may or may not be posting those! Anyway, thanks for reading. R &R please!** - _CJ_

* * *

She stands in the terminal, scared to death of a new place but glad she can move on with her life. She's shaking and tries to hide it from her brother, she wants to think he isn't behind her and looking at her with disappointment.

"Tsubaki." He says and she turns.

"Yes?" She tries to mimic the calmness her brother puts off, but her voice wavers and he hears it.

"I'll miss you." He states and she cries.

"Ill visit when I can, I promise. Tell mom and dad I love them every time you give them flowers." She stutters, " _I'm so sorry for leaving you_."

"You left a long time ago." He whispers and she boards.

* * *

She's afraid the plane may fly too fast or she won't have enough time in between worlds, between her old life and new. Her mind is racing, she tries to catch up with her thoughts but ends up tripping and can't catch her breath for the life of her.

She feels like her whole body is bruised: every inch, every nerve is firing something terrifying and melancholic into her veins. She feels sick. The plane feels like the only sense of stability to her, suspended in a high velocity timeless space.

She didn't mean for it to feel like this, to feel like her brother is still waiting at the gate like he was she left him, stone and with an indescribable feeling etched into his face. Everything about this is just reminding her that she was worthless and moving to a different country will most likely not change that. She's broken, just like her family led her to believe while she was growing up, just like her brother said when she said she was leaving. It feels like a dream, and she counts every minute, every god damned second she's not there.

The woman next to her shifts in her seat, leaning her head on Tsubaki's shoulder.

And even though her whole body hurts and is crying out, this feels like something so human it may just help her get out alive. The woman is blonde and cute, she wonders if she's getting the connecting flight in New York to Las Vegas too.

The in-flight radio whispers some variation of what was already in her mind, she wants to go back- wants to try to fix it, because it was perfect right? And if it _was_ perfect, why did it always feel like hell around them? She starts to panic, she knows leaving is going to make it worse. She starts to cry and gropes for her carry-on under the seat, waking the woman who was sleeping on her shoulder. But the pills will help, maybe even erase the unease she feels in her bones, so she doesn't feel all that bad.

"Oh, I'm sorry." The woman rubs her eyes

"I-It's no problem.." The pills slide down like razor blades.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Worry was apparent on the girls face.

"No, no! I, ah, I have-" Tsubaki feels her cheeks flush, "I have anxiety and I was thinking about a lot. It's not your fault, I assure you."

"What were you thinking about?" The woman sits straight once more and closes her eyes.

Tsubaki is taken aback by the blonde woman; she doesn't know if this lady doesn't understand anxiety or if she's really polite by not asking directly about it.

"I'm leaving home, I decided to make a life in America."

"Oh yeah, where?" The girl beside her smiles.

"Somewhere in the desert. That's where I want to go, at least." She offers a sad smile in return.

"It's nice out there, I live about 40 minutes away from Vegas," And for the first time, they make eye contact. The girls' eyes are an oasis of green but they're piercing, "Maybe I'll see you around. or maybe even help you get settled."

"What's the town's name?"

"Death City" the blonde chuckles, "I promise it isn't as scary as it sounds."

Tsubaki starts to feel more comfortable around the tiny woman next to her, but maybe that's her anxiety medication kicking in. She gives the blonde a sincere smile.

The in-flight radio hisses again, making her heart hurt, making her feel regret and solace.

"Maybe I'll stay a night or two there before I start to travel around, you can show me around."

"I would love to!" The blonde leans back into her chair, but gives a side glance to Tsubaki and laughs a little, "It's really funny, because my mom said that I needed to make more friends. And here you and I are."

Tsubaki grins, the bags under her eyes crinkling. She's happy that for once she isn't worrying about making her whole family dishonored.

"I'm Maka, by the way."

"Tsubaki."


	5. Dead Sea

_**Hey everyone! I might write another chapter later but I have no idea when that will be exactly. So, I hope you enjoy and I'm sorry this took so long again!**_ \- _CJ_

* * *

The train platform splashed rain onto his dress shoes, and as much as he hated getting dirty, the fight seemed to have left him. Gone and out, without a trace. He focused on the little things, the birds chirping through the heavy beat of rain, the intercom of the station playing what sounded like salsa music; fast and in-comprehensive but pretty nonetheless.

New York sucked him dry; he ran on coffee and fumes throughout the week and expensive alcohol and pretty girls on the weekend. He had bags under his eyes, purple tinted and filled with an unpleasant feeling he couldn't place and that had been there for far too long. He made a name for himself, but not really. His father's shadow swallowed him whole, sealing his fate as this monster he hated. He felt lied to and dirty.

The rain continued in its heavy beating, the train was still running late. His phone rang,

"Hello?"

"Hi, hello! How are you, kiddo?" His father's voice rang happily and too-loud in his ear.

"Hello, father. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, I'm calling because I think we need to talk," a sigh escaped Kid's lips, his father quickly jumps back into conversation," Do you mind coming to the estate tonight?"

"Of course not, I'll be there around 6." And with that he hung up.

Two train rides, a cab drive and a shot of crown later, he showed up at his father's estate. It was glorious, gigantic and, best of all, symmetrical. Though not as bad as his childhood disorder, Kid still loved the relief and general euphoria he felt seeing symmetrical or even objects. The estate had changed very little since he'd grown, the flowers around the wrought iron gates had changed from daffodils to hydrangeas, and the path had been re cobbled to a red slate. He didn't mind, seeing he never felt very much at home there.

"So, kid." His father cleared his throat after taking a bite of too-expensive fish followed by too-expensive wine, "You're 22 now and I've been thinking.."

"Father, I want to leave New York." Kid spits out as calmly as possible, trying not to look frightened.

"Oh, thank god." His father looks relieved.

Kid feels hurt more than anything, "What is that supposed to mean?" It's the first time he's felt like he wants to cry in ages.

"Oh no! Not like that," his father waves his hands rapidly, "I want you to go explore the world! I don't want you stuck in this business world just because you think it's the right thing to do!"

"Is it the right thing to do, though?" Kid feels like he might choke on the silence.

"What do you think, son?"

"I think I feel dried up and sick from all this."

"Don't continue something that is negative for you, it's bad practice." His father looks at him with a big grin.

"I appreciate that you support me, dad." Kid smiles down at his plate.

"Don't feel like you have to stay for me. Just make sure you visit. Where did you plan on going?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Why don't you go back to where you were born? You loved Death City, right? Remember Spirit's daughter? She still lives there if I recall correctly."

"That's not a bad idea. I wouldn't know a place to stay, though."

The rest of the night was planning and researching for a fresh start. Kid certainly had enough money just by being Co-CEO of his father's company. His hiatus would be fully funded.

Kid couldn't stop thinking of what made him change his mind about all of this.

* * *

 _"What can I get for you?" A tall, beautiful blonde woman behind the bar asked_

 _"Rum and coke?" Kid slurred, "maybe you after?"_

 _"As flattering as your drunk, overused pick up line is, I think I'll pass." She smirked as she mixed the drink_

 _"Ouch. You don't know what you're passing up."_

 _"I don't like taking advantage of drunk people." She passed his drink to him, leaning her elbows on the bar._

 _"Oh," Kid slurs again, "OHHH."_

 _"Calm down there, business man."_

 _The polite banter continued for a good 30 minutes, never staying on a subject too long or not long enough. She was pretty. He wasn't in the right state of mind to communicate in a way that would make her like him, though. But she talks about how her father died and she never really remembered him, how domestic life never really suited her, but she would like to leave this place when she can. He talked about his father too, he can't remember what though._

 _Because of her, he starts showing up a lot more often, and not always to get plastered so he doesn't feel the crushing weight of adulthood and responsibility. Sometimes he would show up and talk with her. Normal, albeit a little bit slurred on his part, conversations to make him feel human again. She starts to say interesting things, tells him that she favors the wind at her back rather than the safety of domestic life. He tells her he's not one for gambling, but if he was he would bet she would make it anywhere in the world, she would thrive in the desert._

 _"You know, I haven't really met someone like you before."_

 _"How am I like?" He cringed inwardly at his sorry attempt at a retort._

 _"Like a Dead Sea."_

 _"A what?"_

 _"You know, like what you were is gone now but everyone refused to see you as something you are now. But you're reliable, you don't hide much.. Like how dead sea's are!" She chuckled._

 _"Why do you think that?"_

 _"Because you come in here every weekend and get smashed and leave with a model. You're obviously unhappy with who people think you are."_

 _Fury lifted him up from his seat, "What makes you think you can spout this garbage at me?" Her eyes grew wide at him_

 _He smacked a fifty on the bar and stormed out._

Part of him was glad this woman had brought this to his attention, another part was very embarrassed that he acted so rudely to her. The day before he left, he walked to the bar to apologize. When he asked if she was working, they bartender said she quit a while ago so she could move.

She must really had gotten out of there, much like he wanted to for four years. Kid felt washed up all over again. He felt dirty and sick. Maybe he'll get to thank her in the future.

 _I've been down, I've been defeated. You're the message and I will heed it._


End file.
